#she's not my usual nurse but once more a win for the local community nursing team as Nicest Guys

[calamitys-child]

Good nurses are worth their weight in gold I know I say this every time I have an appointment but they're very under appreciated and I want to give them compliments

[jbbuckybarnes]

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 9

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close  to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: parenting, fluff, helmetless Din, sibling double trouble, canon divergent, not proofread.

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 9 - Off-Day

You had prepared the big weekly breakfast for your little family in peace today. You slept well and deep with Din taking on all the baby duties. This was completely your day of the week. After putting down the last bit of drinks for breakfast you heard heavy steps come closer. When you looked up your heart grew ten sizes bigger. Din had his hair all over the place and a tired look on his face. A style matched by both of the children in his arms, also looking at you. “Ba.” Grogu let out exhausted while Dodie catapulted her head back onto Din’s shoulder. “Bounty hunting was easier than the last 12 hours.” He grumbled in his deep morning voice. “You all came out alive, so I’m proud of you.” You kissed him on the nose and then did the same to your kids.

You cut up Grogu’s food for him. Salad cubes, frog meat and a little piece of a sweet local fruit. Meanwhile Din was hard at work helping Dodie properly put rose marmalade onto her bread. “Huh?” She looked up at him after imitating it and he chuckled and nodded, “Close enough, Dodie.” “How was your evening and morning?” He asked looking up at you with his big tired brown eyes. “Meditated, did my skin care, got to do my hair again and tried a new tea.” You looked well rested, beautiful as always. He did this once a week for you, because usually you had the children in the palace while he sat there playing his king role. He knew he had to sacrifice a bit of his time for you too. “And what’s your plan for the off-day?” He asked slowly waking up further with the help of his tea. “I’d love to go into the forest with the children. But they’ll probably get pretty dirty, so we’d have bath duty this evening.” You scrunched your nose. He grinned and took another sip, “Worth it for seeing their tiny squishy faces.” In his bounty hunter reflex he prevented Dodie from accidentally catapulting her sippy cup at her own face. They both looked at each other as if they were telling each other to never talk about this again and went on about their breakfast while you giggled at their similarities.

Your kids looked hilariously cute in their outdoor clothes for the forest. Now that Dodie could walk your little adventures had become even better and funnier, but also more of a mess with two children to keep tabs on.

Grogu had just plopped down on the floor in front of you with a pout. „Oh, little boy, what‘s wrong?“ A puff of air escaped him before he looked up with his big soft eyes. „Do you want to sit in the hood of my cape?“ You smiled and watched his smile grow extra wide. With a squeal from him you picked Grogu up and set him down behind your head, feeling his little claws grab at your collar. You looked over to your two Djarin‘s, „See, this one is red, that means it‘s ripe and you can eat it. But only when they look like that, yeah?“ He picked off a berry and put it into her hand, curious eyes staring up at him and getting a smile back. Reluctantly she put the berry in her mouth, but then proceeded to clap in excitement. „You wanna pick some for later?“ She nodded heavily and jumped.

Dodie was currently painstakingly trying to climb a big stone alone with her unstable little legs. Din reached to help push her up but she turned around and frowned at him “NO!” His eyes widened for a second and he held his hands up, “Okay, princess!” You looked between both of them, “Just like her parents.” She plopped down on top of the big boulder with a proud smile on her face, you put Grogu on the opposite stone and once again watched as both your children started talking in their own little baby language of coos and babbles. You felt an arm snake around your waist and looked up at your husband, “This is so much better than I could’ve imagined.” Your smile grew as you went onto your tiptoes to give him a little kiss, “It is.” “Can’t believe you almost ran away with that squishy ball of energy.” He chuckled and you pushed your elbow into his side. “Well, let’s say your communication skills also improved by a lot.” You both watched the children hop off the stones and do their wobbly run straight for the mud in the middle of the clearing. “What will we do if they stop being so tiny and squishy and easy to contain?” He asked while watching them. “We’ll see, I have a vague idea.” You looked up at him and gave him a little wink.

“Bath time, sweethearts.” He picked his two dirty kids up and carried them towards the bathtub under protesting yells. “Is mom coming too?” He turned around to you and you gave him a smile. You locked the door behind you, they were good at escaping bath time. “Mamam?” You looked down at Dodie signing that she needed help. You helped her undress and threw her clothes into a bag for Aruki to take in the morning. “Okay, let’s get this behind us, yeah? Want my princess to be presentable.” She made uppie arms and you picked her up before lowering her into the tub filled one third. “Wam!” “Yeah, it’s warm.” You chuckled at her comfortable smile at you and picked up a washcloth, beginning to clean her up. “Hey!” Din next to you put you out of your concentration. You looked over to see a streak of water across his face and shirt. You tried to suppress the laughter but couldn’t hold it in for long, “Definitely your son.” “I’m taking that personally!” He gave you a playful pout before his face showed you one of the most childlike happy smiles you’ve ever seen on him. It wasn’t long until you were cleaning up the kids, doing Dodie’s hair and dressed them in their pj’s. “Bedtime!” You announced and got shiny eyes back. This meant their dad was reading to them and they absolutely loved that part of the evening.

The bed dipped next to you and you felt Din’s arms snake around you a few seconds later. “I don’t like how fast they’re growing. Well, Dodie at least.” You turned towards him and chuckled, “I think that’s the most bittersweet thing about parenting. You have to watch them become their own being.” He pulled you closer for a kiss, “At least you won’t leave the house in a couple years.” “I’d hope so.” You kissed along his jawline and got a relaxed hum back. “Your training going well?” He mumbled letting himself calm down more and more. “I could definitely kick your ass. Still unclear if I’d win though.” “I’d let you.” “That wouldn’t be a fair fight, Din.” “No fight between us would be fair, cyare.” “Fair enough.” You entangled your legs and put your face in the crook of his neck before slowly drifting off.

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[mysticqueen-bee]

Just drabble ideas

Just a variant of things I think of especially with Gwevin that I might make into themes for future references . Usually Gwen doesn't like her full name pronounced that often since it varies upon if she was in trouble for something, but the way Kevin says it makes her smile when it's mentioned . An AU where Kevin is mute/deaf and is therefore more prone to be bullied but is pretty much protected by Gwen, she even does a lot of study on sign language and nonverbal mannerisms to equal out the communication so it can help them grow closer together .Kevin getting ill much like Ben and Gwen have before and she takes a lot of time out of her schedule to nurse him back to health because Gwen has a mother instinct aura around her .Gwen was concerned for the amount of injuries Kevin had on him (could be littered with cuts amongst bruises and that scar from the brand on the right side of his chest in 'Grudge Match'), she might not be able to clear the wounds off but uses a good amount of healing magic to make the pain be minimal and pretty much bandages him up so he can relax and recuperate his strength. . Kevin isn't new to night terrors when he slept (which is why he once tried to not sleep as much) but the haunting images of him harming Gwen or implied that he has and is blamed for it makes him whimper and squirm at the disturbing dreams, Gwen wakes up during it and keeps him close to her to soothe him  repeating that she trusts him that it won't be the case and that she can maintain protection over herself without resorting to hurt him. After a while he relaxes and goes back to sleep, otherwise he would just wake up and talk with her to drift his mind from those dreams. .Gwen going through the switch of her and Kevin's mind changing bodies from one of my prompts has her get to see through his eyes on what he had to deal with and gain empathy on this part (though I would think she would have it naturally anyways), after skirmishes and other things she'd apologize for all that he went through when he was knocked out making tears involuntarily come from listening to her words and in time would understand. .Kevin has his sweet side and with knowing Gwen's love for yellow roses he bundles it together with a gift for special occasions, even if he might not be near it when she sees it she appreciates the sweet gesture. . An AU where the soulmates thing could've been shared between generations, maybe Kev was once an anodite long ago but ended up becoming an osmosian in this current life, though he slightly knows of his connection to Gwen before she had to him .One of their nonverbal shows of affection is gently placing their hand next to the other's cheek .Gwen at one point showed Grandpa Kevin's padlock necklace that she had found when he had changed into Kevin 11, she mentioned to Max that she's been having some positive feelings towards him and that it would be kept a secret from Ben . Gwen has been pretty versatile when it comes to different forms of dancing, she suggests that she'd teach Kevin to do ballet with her and they actually have fun honing their skills and in time be really good dancers. . When she's feeling creative she'd draw little doodles of Kevin in cute poses, it puzzles him but he likes the attention. . She's defended him numerous times because she wants to, and eventually Kevin returns the favor to her . Normally she doesn't ask for simple things but she asks at least once to have someone piggyback her, Kevin agrees to her request as long as it makes her happy. . Her first kiss wasn't what she thought or with whom she shared it with, but she enjoyed the lip contact more than she had imagined . She adopts the pet name 'Creepy' to Kevin to be endearing and sometimes playful, but it incorporates their first impressions even though that she loves him. . If Kevin met the Tennyson family when he was pretty young and mentioned the loss of his father Gwen would be the first to embrace him since she wishes he didn't have to suffer a loss of a loved one, while Ben and Ken join in to cheer him up. . She has a small interest in Sumo slammers but not as highly as her cousin or Kevin does, though when they went to a local arcade in Bellwood they ended up winning two prizes where he got a limited edition sumo slammers designed game system and she got a kitty shaped pillow . Lucy has made a Kevin plush for Gwen to relax with when she had nightmares, though if the real one was around he'd be a bit jealous of an inanimate object for her affections (even if it's a bit silly) . She loves her bed pillows and sleeping on his chest where his heart is, if she had to choose between the two to rest her head on she'd choose him. . Gwen 10 is locked in a serious combat with Osmosian!Charmcaster trying to not let her guard falter, Mage!Kevin seemingly avoids his battle with Anodite Ben to play an indirect distraction to Gwen by slowly gliding in her direction with a wink and blow kiss which enrages her to no end with a blush plastered on her face "You jerk! You're not helping at all" . His dark and mysterious eyes make her wary but interested in him, her calming stare relaxes him in a way nobody else could which is why they loved gazing at one another.      

[pocketfulofpolin]

Protector (9-1-1 fic)

Part One | Part Two | AO3

Chapter Three Miracle

“Are you still not talking to me?”

The seventeen-year-old walked into the room of her seven-year-old brother. There was a small body-shaped mound underneath the blue covers. She rolled her eyes, as she sat down at the edge, letting it dip slightly. She poked at various points on the lump, which issues a few quiet laughs, which the boy attempted to hide.

“So you are alive under there,” Maddie said, as she pulled down the top. Her brother attempted to bring the covers back up, failing as his sister kept her grip. He shot her a glare (as menacing as a child could try to actually send) as she slowly slid up in the bed. His hair stuck up at various angles, which Maddie attempted to smooth down. “You have to talk to me, Evan. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“Why do you even care?” Evan asked, pouting and trying not to cry. “You’re gonna leave.”

“It’s just college, Evan. I’m not even leaving for a year!” Maddie replied, moving to sit next to him completely. She wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders. Eventually, he scooted back to snuggle into her side. “I won’t even be leaving you for that long. I plan on staying nearby, so I can visit you every weekend. That’s why I only applied to nearby schools.”

“But what if you don’t wanna come back?”

Maddie ran her fingers through his hair.

“Want to know what I want to write my essay about?” She watched as he nodded. “About how much I adore being your big sister.”

Evan smiled, closing his eyes and leaning into her shoulder. Maddie pressed a kiss into his locks of hair, as she worried whether he would be okay without her there constantly. Without their parent’s attention, she had taken it upon herself to ensure that he was well protected. She knew that she needed to go to college - that she wanted to become a nurse, to help others.

Yet - holding her brother seven years ago for the first time had caused her to realize that he was a miracle.

( - - - )

Miracle.

Buck had been called that by his sister once before. She had explained to him - just before the first night she spent away in dorms - that from the moment she had held him for the first time she had been smitten. He had always wondered what he would feel if he were to hold his own child. He had never expected the fact he would know so soon.

Sitting in the hospital, Buck held his daughter in his arms. He cradled her head gently, his arms lose around her, but also tight enough to keep her safe. He attempted not to release any of the tears which had formed, upon finally being able to cradle the most precious person who had entered his life so suddenly. His attempt failed, just as his attempted has in the past (watching the military official and his daughter reunite at the school concert came to mind).

Buck knew that he needed to leave the hospital soon, to arrange everything he would need once they left. There had been no communication from his so-called work family, which Buck took to mean he truly was no longer considered part of them. It stung, although the silence from his sister was truly the worst part of everything. He refused to reach out, he had made the decision to step up for himself. Even if he knew he needed help, he was stubborn and refused to ask in case they rejected him.

Them.

Buck looked down, examining his daughters’ features. It would no longer just be ‘him’. Eddie had once told him that he had used ‘I’ a lot during his apologies. He vowed that would no longer happen. There was now a new Buckley, who needed him more than anyone else. Buck could not be the version of himself which had arrived in LA all those years ago, looking for nothing more than a warm body pressed against for a night. He was now a father - a title he had long thought would not be possible. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself as he embraced his daughter, silently promising her the world.

( - - - )

There had been a reluctance to leave the hospital.

Buck had spent three days there, refusing to leave his newborn’s side. The medical team had eventually relented after the first twenty-four hours, knowing that Buck could not be moved. Eventually, the combined efforts of two of the nurses (Jem, and one of her older colleagues who had three teenage sons) had forced him from his position next to her crib.

‘You need to go home. Shower. Change.’ Jem had stated, as she had practically shoved him from the room. ‘Alice will be in our care. Besides, I am certain you need to arrange somewhere for her to sleep.’

He had no idea where to start. Buck knew that he would need at least the basics, to see him through until he could figure out his finances, and actually research how to look after a newborn child. He was determined to succeed, in a way he had not felt since he had to complete his recertification a few months before. Returning to his apartment, Buck felt a wave of troubled emotions. There were no signs that anyone had tried to see him, another indication that he had been forgotten by those he cared most about in the world.

Time past by while the firefighter drenched himself in the shower and then walked down the stairs whilst pulling on a clean sweater. There was a duffle bag packed, filled with supplies he would need over the next couple of days. Buck hoped that visiting a couple of local stores that specialized in newborns and toddlers would help him feel less… hopeless. There was still every urge within him to break down to see his team and ask them for assistance. With the situation between them all still so delicate, Buck did not want to add another element that could cause it to break completely.

He needed to show everyone that he could cope without leaning on them. They all had their own lives. Their own families outside of work. For the first time, he felt as though he would now have a purpose from the moment his shift ended. Reaching for his phone, Buck knew there was still one person who could help him through everything. One person who would be on his side, and help him figure out what he needed to do. Although he was resigned to complete this alone, he was also terrified he would make a mistake.

“Hey, Carla… are you free?”

And suddenly, the idea of spending the next four days attempting to arrange things no longer seemed like a daunting task.

( - - - )

Howie ‘Chimney’ Han never believed that he would see the role of acting captain so soon after his first stint. A virus had spread out amongst the families of the 118 fire crew who served under Captain Nash, causing a lot of disturbance over the week. Chimney, Eddie and Hen had remained unscathed at first, arriving for a shift a week prior to being told by the night captain that Bobby and Buck had both called out.

It had started - as always - with a gathering at the Grant/Nash residence. Unknown to the adults of the house, Harry had been feeling unwell for a day or so. Unwilling to tell his mom or step-father, he had kept quiet. Harry had wanted to see Denny and Christopher, the three had a planned video game battle to keep. This meant that it was no surprise when May fell sick, followed by Bobby in the days after.

Maddie had been the next to fall, messaging Chimney soon after he had found out about Bobby and Buck, telling him to stay away from her for the next few days. During the same shift, Hen had been messaged by Karen to say that both she and Denny were having a movie-sick day. Soon after, Eddie had been contacted by Christopher’s school to say the boy needed to be sent home.

Each member of the 118 had been so focused on their respective families or responsibilities, they had not stopped to consider the one enigma within the situation. Buck had not been at the gathering, having told the hosts that he already had other plans. The firehouse was quiet with temporary staff brought in to help the remaining family members who were still standing.

As the week slowly came to a close, the virus subsided, and those affected returned to a state of normality.

Which was, of course, the reason why everything would soon turn.

( - - - )

“Feeling better, Cap?” Hen’s voice caught Bobby’s attention as he walked into the building. He smiled, thankful to be back at work. Chimney followed her, throwing a hand on Bobby’s shoulder as a greeting.

“It’s good to be back,” Bobby replied, “pleased to see the firehouse didn’t burn down during my absence,” he joked as the three walked together.

“Captain Han made a glorious return! Did you have any doubts?” Chim chimed in, with Hen rolling her eyes. A snort came from behind them. Eddie stood there in his civilian clothes, having spent most of the week with his son. “You wound me.”

“How are the kids, Cap?” Eddie asked. “Christopher went back to school today. He’s spent most of the week trying to convince me that ice cream is a healing force. I blame Buck for that, actually.”

Bobby let out a laugh, though his mind flashed to his own children for a moment. He could remember Robert and Brook having the same argument, and usually, they would eventually win. His heart pounded for a moment at the thought of his beloved family, pleased there were fond memories which he could find amongst the darkness.

“Both are back in school today. May spent the week blaming Harry, who tried his luck in spending the week in front of video games.” Bobby replied, recalling the argument between his wife and stepson. “Athena put a stop to that thought.”

Hen chuckled. Athena had been the only member of the house not to suffer. It seemed that even a virus did not want to battle with the unbeatable force that was Athena Grant Nash.

“Has anyone heard from Buck?” Bobby added as he realized the youngest member of the team was nowhere to be seen.

“I thought he would be here,” Eddie said, looking back towards the entrance. It was no secret the two had not been on the same wavelength for a while. He had spent the time looking after Christopher knowing he wanted that to change. Chris had asked for Buck during the last week, and it broke him knowing that he couldn’t just call the other man. He desperately wanted to try and find a way to fix the distance that had been created.

As the group parted ways, Bobby moved into his office. He didn’t want to think about the emails and messages he would have missed during his impromptu leave. The station was full of movement outside his office door. His crew getting ready for the shift ahead as they caught up with each other whilst working. Bobby took a sip of coffee, wincing at the number of emails that had stocked up during his absence.

The subject of one caught his attention. Bobby clicked ‘Buckley - emergency leave granted’ quickly, skimming through the paragraph from the office of the chief. It was then his phone sounded, as she absentmindedly accepted the call. Before he could give a greeting, the voice of his wife echoed around the room.

“Hon, is Buck around?”

Something was wrong. He could hear the concern in her voice, he had heard it several times alone over the past year when it came to the youngest member of the 118.

“No. He’s been out all week, Chim thought he was sick.” Bobby paused for a moment. “I just found a notice that he’s been given emergency leave. Do you need him?”

He heard a sigh.

“I just found out that Ali Martin died in a car accident a week ago.” She said, and Bobby froze. “I thought the name sounded familiar, so I looked into her further. She’s….”

“...Buck’s ex-girlfriend.” The two voices spoke at the same time.

“There’s more,” Athena said. “If my gut is right, that boy is gonna need our support.”

( - - - )

As Bobby and Athena spoke across the city, Buck watched as the pediatrician completed his final checks. The week had been stressful, not knowing when Alice would be deemed suitable to be released into his care. He remained close to her bed, a protective stance which he had perfected, deciding to take no chances when it came to the child he helped to create. He watched as the doctor took a step back, and marked a few things onto the chart.

“Alice is ready to go home.” He stated, sending a bolt of fear through Buck. This had been the outcome he had prayed for - and also the outcome which he had dreaded. As if he was providing a signal of distress, a hand appeared on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“It’s gonna be fine, Buckeroo,” Carla said, “we’ve got this.”

( - - - )

Athena Grant had a sixth sense when it came to her family. It had always been there, developing since she was a child. The moment she had become a mother, she found that she had nurtured her abilities, which allowed her to focus during both her full-time roles - as a police officer, and (more importantly) as a mother. There had been a feeling within her gut for the past week. Given the fact that her children, her husband, and her ex-husband had all become ill, she had ignored the sensation.

They were all on the mend, but the feeling had not left.

It hadn’t been until she had overheard two officers speaking about the fatal collision a week before she finally understood why. The name sounded familiar to the police sergeant, and the reason had caused her to contact her husband straight away. The fact of the matter was that her husband had entered the marriage with more than memories and love for his first wife and their children. It was a routine joke that Bobby and Buck shared a pseudo father and son based relationship, though both denied this. Athena had seen how distressed Bobby had been upon finding out about the lawsuit.

“Sorry, I got caught in traffic.” Athena stood at the entrance of Buck’s apartment block, as Bobby arrived and the two shared a brief kiss. “Chimney’s spoken to Maddie. She hasn’t heard from Buck all week. She and Hen tried to call him, no answer.”

Bobby was certain he had also seen Eddie with his cell in his hands but hadn’t dwelled on the fact. He had been itching to get the two to work through their issues for almost a month. After Athena’s call, he had spoken to his team straight away. He had not mentioned about Ali, instead, he had asked if anyone had spoken to Buck. When they had discovered no one had thought about him - wrapped up in their own lives for the past week - he had made an excuse and left. He knew that Chimney, Hen, and Eddie would know something was amiss, but he was yet to find out the full extent of what was wrong. Bobby looked at the apartment entrance, and let out a small sigh.

“Are you ready?” Athena said, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. The two wandered in towards the elevators, both praying that they would be welcomed, neither knowing what would await them when they reached the correct floor.  They rode the elevator in comfortable silence, eventually reaching the apartment and knocking.

No response.

The two shared a look of concern.

“Buckeroo?” Athena knocked again, the use of his nickname slipping out in a concerned tone. The silence was obvious. There were no signs of anyone being within the apartment. No sounds of movement, no sounds of music, no sounds of life.

“He moved out.”

The two turned, facing a neighbor who had just exited their own apartment.

“Moved out?” Bobby repeated, disbelief dripping in his tone.

“Saw him a couple of days ago speaking to the landlord. He’s canceled his lease, I don’t know if he plans on returning.”

Athena and Bobby looked back towards the apartment, then at each other. There was only one thought on each of their minds.

Where the hell was Evan Buckley?

[ssteezyy]

Tiffanie McCullough: Passionate About Cats, TNR, Feline Nutrition, and Busting Stereotypes

I first met Tiffany McCullough at Cat Camp NYC earlier this year, but didn’t have much of a chance to chat with her until we saw each other again at CatCon. We only talked for a few minutes amid the (wonderful) craziness that is CatCon, but I knew right then and there that I had met a kindred spirit, and that I wanted to introduce you to this amazing woman.

Tiffanie is the Director of Trapking Humane Solutions, working with Sterling Davis to help the cats in their hometown Atlanta through TNR and adoption, and to bridge the gap in communication between black communities and animal rescue and local shelters.

Tiffanie is a Virginia native who has always loved animals. After getting her degree in business marketing, she spent eight years in corporate America, until one day, she had had enough of the stress and the mundane treadmill of the business world. She quit. “I flat out said forget this and walked out on my corporate job and never looked back,” writes Tiffanie on the Trapking website. “That night, once I actually had time to realize what I had done , I went online and saw a job for a cat attendant at Lifeline Animal Project.” She got called for an interview the next day. “I sat in a cat room in heels and a business skirt, with cats climbing all around me and purring.” She was hired four days later.

She served as an owner surrender counselor, worked with shelter cats, and became interested in animal nutrition. “My affinity for animals has become a full fledged movement,” writes Tiffanie. “I aim to break the stereotypes associated with not only black women and cats but black women and animals. That one risk of quitting my career has led me on a journey that has blessed me in so many ways and it continues to do so every second of every day.”

I wanted to learn more about Tiffany and her work, and I’m delighted to bring you this interview.

How did you get started with Trapking and Sterling?

I’ve known Sterling for years. He would let staff tag along on trapping sessions and that’s how I developed my love for TNR . I remember we were both working at the shelter. I was working the front desk at the clinic right before I was promoted to Owner Surrender Counselor. Sterling was the sole person doing TNR for the organization (a private shelter and two county shelters.) He would always talk about how there had to be a better way to spread awareness and to get more men and diversity involved with feral cats and TNR .

As time went on, it went from casual talking to him really wanting to see the change. One day he came to my desk and said “Pika, I’m starting a nonprofit – I have to do it. I want to do something different to help these cats and I’m calling it TrapKing. I want you to be my director. You can help keep things running smoothly and you have the background knowledge.” I was super excited, of course, and it blossomed from there.

How did you get interested in nutrition?

My initial interest came when I was working at the shelter. I’ve worked in intake, the kennel, the feline department, the shelter clinic, and a private vet clinic (editor’s note: Tiffanie is Fear Free Certified.) I’ve seen multiple facets of how diet affects shelter animals. They are usually fed whatever is cost effective or donated. I saw how a lot of the animals had skin issues and allergy symptoms. When a shelter is stretched to the max on a budget, it can be hard to meet nutritional needs.

It wasn’t until I began working at the private veterinary clinic in patient care that I was able to really be hands on and learn about food allergies, prescription diets and raw feeding. I noticed some of the owners would bring in freeze dried raw food or home made food for their pets who were boarding. A lot of them complained about how the prescribed diet wasn’t working. I looked at the back of a prescribed bag of food one day and was amazed at all of the corn, wheat gluten and other additives inside. My interest peaked from there.

You are an advocate for raw feeding. How did you come to understand that raw is the optimal diet for cats?

Education and research. The best thing any owner can do is arm themselves with knowledge. I’m not saying don’t take the advice of your vet, however, preparing yourself for more healthier options is a win for the pet and the owner. I took a job at a specialty food pet store that is a huge advocate for raw feeding for pets. I went through several months of training, and meetings with representatives of some awesome raw food companies.

The first thing I learned was that cats are obligate carnivores. Even the best kibble is still kibble. Not only can a raw diet improve digestion, the stool is greatly reduced in volume and odor, there is also better dental health and less shedding of the coat, which leads to fewer hairballs. I remember reading, and taking pages and pages of notes. It was like college all over again. I also met with a couple of veterinarians who advocate raw feeding.

How do you approach counseling potential adopters or cat parents who have never heard of raw feeding?

I encourage everyone to start slow. There are so many options in regards to raw feeding . Which is good, because cats are creatures of habit and change for them can be hard. I always try to give a little background on cats and how they function. For example: The amino acid taurine is exclusively found in animal-based proteins. Humans and dogs can easily synthesize it within their bodies with usually no problems. Cats, however have to get taurine from their diet. So what we feed our feline companions is super important. I talk to them about how taurine is critical for heart muscle function, fetal development, the immune system and vision. Salmon, red meat and poultry (especially organ meats) are great natural sources of taurine. You would be hard pressed to find a wild cat with a taurine deficiency.

Most of the time, switching from kibble to raw should be fairly easy. However, factoring in lifestyle of the owner and the cat, thawing out frozen raw food may be a challenge. Freeze-dried raw (which may require re-hydrating) is a great way to add raw to the diet or to transition. Raw goat’s milk is another way to add a raw element. I’d like to note that I wouldn’t give kittens raw goat’s milk. Their systems are much too sensitive. If kittens can’t nurse, a commercial kitten milk replacement is ideal.

Can you share some success stories you’ve had with raw food? You mentioned a cat named Lenny to me?

Lenny!! Ahh, my heartbeat. Lenny was pulled by Sterling from a county shelter, where he was facing euthanasia because they deemed him too feral. We ended up taking him to a vet for a severe open gash and to be neutered. After two more surgeries, Lenny went into foster care, where he was a lovebug. When he was finally healed, he made his way to me.

I noticed he had severe diarrhea. It was pretty bad. The kibble he had been eating was wreaking havoc on his system. I immediately got him some goat’s milk with turmeric and ginger to help with his tummy and to replenish lost moisture. I also started him on freeze dried raw chicken and salmon, which was 90% meat, organs and bone with 10% produce and supplements. Within 3 days, Lenny went from overbearing diarrhea (yikes) to solid stool that was small in size and had very little odor. The smaller stool was also a sign that he was absorbing a majority of the nutrients. He also really loves raw bone broth. Primal is his favorite brand of raw food. As days went, on his coat and overall health dramatically improved. He and I both decided to make it official, and I adopted him.

Tiffanie with Lenny

Tell us about your first cat.

My first cat was a calico named Nadia. I found her in the woods near my campus. I was 19 and in college at the time. She was malnourished and covered in fleas. I was so naive that I just gave her water, wet food and washed her with just a bar of soap. I kept her hidden in my dorm room. She thrived for about a month but was just so sickly. I remember taking my last bit of money and taking her to the vet because she had stopped eating. He told me she had a terribly infected abscess in her mouth, and was anemic. Her little body just couldn’t take it. I cried for days when she passed. I’ve thankfully learned so much more about cats since then.

How many cats do you have now?

Just one. Lenny Katvitz – he is my eartipped renegade but he is pure love and let me tell you, he is quite the entertainer. He is so inquisitive and when he gets excited – especially at feeding time – he becomes a chatterbox. It’s the cutest!!!

What is it like working with Sterling?

With Sterling everything you see is exactly what you’re going to get. If you took Lebron James, Jimi Hendrix and mixed a feral cat in there it would be Sterling… lol. He is outgoing, driven and determined. We are like a bonded pair of felines when it comes to TNR, our love for animals and life in general. We balance each other out, Sterl is more eclectic and stubborn. I’m more calm and open. I make sure everything is running smoothly behind the scenes. We always bounce ideas off of each other, too. We may bump heads at times, but we have fun. At the end of the day, we are both here for one purpose, and that’s to advance the awareness of all things feral and TNR. Besides who else could deal with that dude honestly? 😆

For more information about Tiffanie, Sterling and Trap King Solutions and the amazing work they do, please visit https://trapkinghumane.org/.

The post Tiffanie McCullough: Passionate About Cats, TNR, Feline Nutrition, and Busting Stereotypes appeared first on The Conscious Cat.

[auburnfamilynews]

It was Saturday, Dec. 8, 2007, the millionth day of a 100-year, shadow-of-death drought that the Associated Press voted the state of Alabama’s top news story that year, bigger than that horrible tornado in Enterprise, bigger than the governor going to federal prison for bribery. Nearly 2 million residents were living under water restrictions, including folks in Tallapoosa County who wondered if they’d even be able to take baths by the end of the year. In August, Lake Martin was already at winter levels. The thing was a puddle. Alexander City and Dadeville started showing up on the date lines for national stories about how God had given up on the south. Islands were turning into peninsulas, people were planting peas and okra where they used to dock their jet skis, black widows were mysteriously swarming swimming pools. And yet in the midst of despair… a miracle.

Saint Shannon McDuffie and I are at the Chappy’s Deli in Auburn. It’s April. Shannon’s from Dadeville. We’re about the same age. One of the houses she cleans on Fridays is in Auburn. I wrote and told her if she could spare an hour I’d buy her lunch. So I’m buying her lunch—chicken salad and anything else she wants. Coffee? Desert? Anything to keep her talking about it. She seems cool with it. Smiling. Laughing. Great laugh. Great accent. And she’s a Bama fan! She brought all the magazines and stuff that had been written about it and there’s nothing about how it happened to a Bama fan, even though it might obviously explain why, of the two faces she saw in the wallet, she only recognized Christ’s, staring out from a copy of what looked to be the Lord’s Prayer that somehow hadn’t disintegrated.

“So, like, you had no idea who he was?”

Shannon shakes her head. It’s emphatic.

“It did not register to me at all who that was. Because everything had, like, 80s (dates) on it. I didn’t know. I’m like, ‘who is Patrick Fain Dye?’”

  Her chocolate Labs sat and waited as she dug through it. Once upon a time, Patrick Fain Dye, of Graystone Ave. in Auburn, born Nov. 6, 1939, was an honorary Alabama state trooper. He was 5’11, 195 pounds, an Auburn University employee and a Delta Frequent Flyer. He got a government employee discount on Chevron gas, and he could use either an American Express or Visa to reserve a room for half-price at the Terrace Garden Inn.

She put the cards back in the wallet. It was nice—alligator. The expiration date on the driver’s license was August 4, 1985. So it’d been down there, what, at least 20 years? More? She could still smell the leather.

“It was in Emerald Shores. It’s across from Stillwaters. The water was real low and I was back there taking my dogs and looking for old bottles in the lake and I found this bulge.”

The bulge was a pair of green and blue Madras golf pants.

“They were actually folded with the crease and all still in them.”

Still folded!

But of course they were just pants, old muddy pants; the wallet she fished out was what mattered. So she dropped them. She left them. Repeat—she left the pants! Just left them there in the muck and started the hot walk back to the house in Holiday Shores. Her in-laws were over. They’d get a kick out of it. It was the only thing she’d found out there, but an old wallet belonging to some old man named Patrick Fain Dye… the name was starting to sound familiar… was obviously better than some old Coke bottle. She called for the dogs.

“I walked back and I was telling my husband and his parents about it, and they’re like ‘that’s Pat Dye from Auburn! You better go back and get them pants!'”

Pat Dye! Duh!

She hopped on the golf cart and floored it. She picked up the pants and heard a jingle. Inside the other pocket were keys to a Toyota latched to an Auburn football helmet keychain. And a handkerchief.

  People had been finding all kinds of things that fall. Old coins. Lost rings. So one of the local magazines, Lake Martin Living, had the idea to compile a list of the coolest, weirdest treasure for one of their drought stories. The Woman Who Found Pat Dye’s Pants heard about it and was like, ‘oh man, do I have something.’” She wasn’t super into football or anything, but she knew the pants of Auburn’s former football coach would have to be hard to top. Better than a Bicentennial license plate. Better than an old buck knife. Totally unique, right? Totally perfect. So she called Lake Martin Living… and they go “nah.” She picked up the phone… with Pat Dye’s golf pants from the 1980s and his wallet and credit cards and handkerchief and Toyota keys next to her, all of which she’d found in Lake Martin’s corpse… and they told her thanks, but no thanks.

The rejection understandably weirded her out. Ditto the few folks she’d told. How do you pass on that? How do you not include Pat Dye’s Pants in the list of cool things your readers have found in the amazing, disappearing lake? How do you not top the list with that? How do you not make it your cover? How do you not call the Smithsonian?

Gail, the wife of the man who owned the Piggly Wiggly where Shannon worked, wasn’t giving up on getting it out there. She called Auburn.

Um, yeah, hi… this girl Shannon McDuffie who works at the deli inside Piggly Wiggly found Pat Dye’s wallet, looks like he lost it or something… and the woman who picked up just kind of laughed: “Oh, again?”

Click.

And so The Pants (and everything that came with them) just sat there. They just sat there. Months went by, and hardly anyone outside of Clan McDuffie and some friends and Gail knew about the pants. Shannon would come home from Piggly Wiggly everyday and heat something up in the microwave and turn on the TV and they would just be there, maybe in a box, maybe in her closet: Pat Dye’s Pants. She and husband Derrick would go to sleep at night with Pat Dye’s Pants sitting there. She’d head out in the morning and they’d just be sitting there, Pat Dye’s Pants, home alone. She’d leave Pat Dye’s Pants to go to work, to go to the movies, and—praise the Lord— to go take a photography class at Central Alabama Community College taught by Kenneth Boone.

Boone owned the other local magazine, “Lake Magazine,” plus a few local papers. And he was a photographer. Shannon was working on becoming a bit of a shutterbug herself.

“He was teaching a photography class in April 2008. It was a beginners class, anybody could go. I told him about it at class. I said ‘guess what I found in the lake.’ He said ‘wow, we need to do a story on that.’ So that’s how this all came about.”

  The photo on the cover of the July 2008 Lake Martin Alabama edition of Lake Magazine is perfect.

“I went a bought a new outfit for it,” Shannon says.

Here it is.

Boone took it. He set the whole thing up. Thankfully, he had some connections. After Shannon shared her secret, he made some calls. A few weeks later, he and Shannon and Pat Dye’s Pants hit the road for the most famous Japanese maple farm in Notasulga. And it was great.

Shannon showed the Pants to Coach. He remembered them. She showed him the wallet.

“Was there any money in there?”

Ha!

“I don’t have any idea how I lost’em,” he told Shannon. “But we’ll make up a good story.”

They walked around for an hour. Coach gave her the tour. Then he made a deal with her: Let him have his pants back, let him auction them off at the Blue Jean Ball, the annual charity thing he hosts every year for Auburn’s nursing school—it was coming up in September—and he’d have her and Derrick down as his special guests.

Kenneth Boone told them to stand next to each other. They stretched the pants out between them and said “cheese.”

Click, click, click.

Clicks, clicks, clicks.

  It went viral, obviously. ESPN. The Washington Post. EDSBS. Rick and Bubba. Some old WordPress.com blog called The War Eagle Reader.

I thought it was the greatest story I’d ever heard. I wasn’t alone.

  “Hello?”

“Yessir, this is Matt McDonald, you had contacted my office this morning about Coach Dye’s pants.”

Matt McDonald is a big Auburn fan. Huge. He attended AU for a few years in the mid-90s and owns some pharmaceutical industry companies down in Fairhope, which is how he developed friend-of-a-friend connections with the nursing school years back… which is how he found himself at Pat Dye’s Blue Jean Ball in 2008. The theme? Blue Hawaii. Hula dancers. Tiki torches. An Elvis impersonator. The eagle. And Pat Dye’s Pants, mounted in a custom-made shadow box alongside their former contents, ready to fund some nursing scholarships.

Dye called Shannon up in front of everyone.

“I’d been partying with him and dancing,” she says, flipping through the photo album.

They stood next to the shadow box, leis around both of their necks. He introduced her as the woman who’d found his pants. People howled. Matt got ready.

“I was like, holy crap, that’s cool,” Matt says. “I didn’t even know the story about the pants.”

Several big bids later—they started off at $5,000—he became a part of it.

Shannon captioned the picture she took with Matt: “Matt McDonald bought them 4 $8,000! Wow! Who knew, right!”

The night he paid $8,000 for Pat Dye’s Pants was actually the first time Matt met the man. They’ve since become pretty tight. They hunt together. Dye will have Matt’s family up to the house some during football season. Matt’s actually been one of the sponsors of the Blue Jean Ball since 2013 or so. He bids on stuff every year. He usually wins. He’s got a Toomer’s Oak clone (that Dye himself actually came down and planted in Matt’s yard). He’s got a cool hand-carved eagle Dye used to own. He’s got one of Dye’s shotguns. He’s got one of Bo’s shotguns, autographed of course. But when people step into his home office, nothing gets them talking more than the $8,000 pair of muddy pants

“So you’re writing about them or something,” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, kind of like you, I just thought it was the greatest story ever. Had I found those things, I think I probably would have passed out. It would have been such a shock. It was such a hilarious story, but such a cool thing at the same time, at least to me. Because the 80s were such a ripe time for college football lore, and Auburn at the time was right there in the middle of it. I’m just like, what was happening when he lost them? What was going on? It’s like something out of a movie. I mean, we’d just won the Sugar Bowl and should have been national champs and we’re gearing up to play Miami to start the season. Because best I can tell from everything that was in his wallet, it had to have happened in either 1983, but probably 1984.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, “I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

  The 1984 Pat Dye Invitational Golf Tournament, held Sunday and Monday, July 15 and 16, was probably the biggest they’d had since Dye arrived, the most attended. Who’s going to turn down two paid days at Stillwaters skiing and playing golf and stuffing yourself with barbecue chicken in the name of covering college football’s preseason No. 1, interviewing (via teleconference, but still) that year’s Heisman frontrunner? No one. Definitely not Jon Johnson, that’s for sure. Jon has been the Dothan Eagle’s sports editor for the past 22 years. In 1984, he was the Plainsman’s, and one of probably 200 or so media members who absolutely took Auburn up on the offer.

“Auburn would have sports writers from around the state come up there (to Stillwaters) and just entertain them for the weekend,” Jon says. “Alabama did the same thing when Perkins was there and Curry was there— invite them and treat them to dinner and lunch, and you played golf, and then at night they’d sit around and tell stories and have all the assistant coaches there, too. And, of course, something like that you never see these days. You can’t do it anymore. Basically it was a big socializing event for a couple of days for sports writers and coaches.”

And that year, as fate would have it, for Joe freakin’ DiMaggio.

“Everyone got word (DiMaggio) was down there, and the most unique thing that I remember about it was… well, it’s kind of taboo to ask for autographs. That’s just not something you do (as a journalist). But this was different. I remember vividly people getting in a line to shake his hand. Guys who were with television stations, sportscasters…”

Guys like Jim Fyffe…

And sure, Jon, too.

“I got his autograph on just a piece of notebook paper. I kept it in my wallet for years and years.”

But beyond Joltin’ Joe being there, and the guy who hosted the Ray Perkins Show being photographed in an Auburn hat and a Bo jersey—David Housel threatened to send a print to Perkins—Jon doesn’t remember anything wacky happening. No skinny dipping. No rumors about Coach Dye dropping trou or anything. Just fun.

After finishing 18 holes on Monday afternoon, Jon hopped in the car a happy camper. He got back to Auburn and wrote his weekly column. Here’s how he ended it:

“Dye had said at his press conference he didn’t want anyone to leave on Monday without being able to say they had a good time. He didn’t have anything to worry about.”

  Shannon took a copy of the magazine with her to the Blue Jean Ball. Coach signed it for her.

She slides it across the table.

To Shannon, thank you for finding my pant! War Eagle, Pat Dye

“Wait, he just wrote ‘pant’ — not ‘pants,’”I tell her. “There’s no ‘s’ on there.”

We laugh. She’d never noticed.

Not long after the magazine came out, Shannon opened up her mailbox to something from Brad Cotter, the country singer who won “Nashville Star” in 2004.

“His cousin or aunt or something, I know her, and they’re big Auburn fans, and she just thought it was amazing and she told him about it, and he sent me an autographed photo that said ‘If you find my pants, please don’t tell anyone.’”

Since then, it’s mostly died down. But every now and then, someone will still say something.

“Yeah, I was known for a little while around my little town as the girl who found Pat Dye’s pants. They’d keep coming and asking me ‘did you find any pants lately?’ They just kept asking me ‘did he say why he lost them?’ Somebody said that somebody might have gotten mad at him and thrown them into the lake while they were out on a boat.’”

I tell her if we’d gotten there a little earlier, we could have slid into the back booth and asked David Housel. He always does Chappy’s for breakfast. He has to know.

“I have my own theory, though,” I tell her.

She nods along.

“Yeah, if it’s what I’m thinking, Joe DiMaggio was actually there. I’m thinking of starting the story with ‘while Pat Dye was on top of the world, his pants were at the bottom the lake.’”

The check finally comes.

“Well, if you talk to him, tell him I said ‘hi.’ I’d actually like to get back in touch with him and see what he says now. ‘Hey, it’s been 10 years, remember me?’”

  I work mornings in the same building where Pat Dye records his weekly radio show. I’ve heard the man recount entire touchdown drives, down by down, from games played before half of us were born, games played in forgettable seasons.

But in 1984? It was great to be an Auburn Tiger going into 1984. It was great to be Pat Dye.

He was coming off what should have been a national championship season. He had at least another year and maybe two with the best player in the country. He was gearing up to open the season against defending national champs Miami in the Kickoff Classic at the Meadowlands, then take on No. 4 Texas at Austin, back to back. He was telling reporters waiting to play golf at Stillwaters that Auburn had a “legitimate chance at the national title.”

Sure, he’s 79. But feeling a breeze, losing your keys, losing your wallet, asking for a ride home, canceling credit cards… all at the same time, all during what is arguably the peak of your coaching career?

Surely…

I’ve talked with him before. Been out to his house. Called him on the phone. But for a kid who in, say, 1984 thought Pat Dye was a god, it’s always pretty nerve wracking.

I took a deep breath. I caught him in the hall. He was wearing khaki pants.

“Hey Coach, remember your golf tournament at Lake Martin in 1984? Joe DiMaggio was there?”

“Yeah, yeah… Joe came down and was there at the press conference we did at Stillwaters.”

“Coach, I’ve been doing a little research… do you think that could have been when you lost your pants?”

He stops, turns around, looks at me.

“Well… it had to have been somewhere around then.”

“So that sounds right? It could have been?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Coach, I actually talked with Shannon McDuffie the other day, remember her? She’s the one who…”

“Yeah, yeah… from Dadeville? She didn’t even know who I was. Her husband had to tell her.”

“Did you know she was an Alabama fan?”

“Well that don’t make no difference.”

  If you like TWER, please consider supporting my work via Patreon. Thanks!

Related: Pat’s Dry Field.

from The War Eagle Reader https://www.thewareaglereader.com/2018/08/the-fall-and-rise-of-pat-dyes-pants/

[thirteenthanda]

How To Wake Up And Not Feel Like Going Right Back To Bed

Fitness gurus share their morning routines

How do some people manage to look so darn perky as they sip coffee and smoothies in their Instagram stories in the morning? It all comes down to establishing a winning routine, one that’s easy for you to do every day and leaves you feeling awake, alert, and inspired. You don’t have to steal an entire routine from these fitness and wellness experts, but they have some pretty great suggestions of places to start.

Once you begin to develop a routine of your own, optimize it to your specific needs. Meditation for 20 minutes might not work for you, but maybe you can handle five minutes. Yoga might not be your jam, but what about a few basic stretches instead? And journaling can feel a little cliche, but what about a Google Doc where you list one thing daily that you’re grateful for? We don’t all need to be fitness and wellness junkies, but we can all get a little bit better at managing our mornings and crushing the rest of our day.

Stay Offline “I’d say my number one tip is to get ready for your day, whether that be breakfast, journaling, meditation, or working out before looking at your phone,” Sophie Gray of WayofGray.com says. “I recommend being off of your phone for at least 30 to 60 minutes in the morning! I like to do this because I can check in with myself first, before checking in with others.”

Productivity gurus and the authors of Peak Performance, Brad Stuhlberg and Steve Magness, also back this one up. The more time you can stay off your phone and not be distracted, the better. Getting your primary workout for the day done before the flood of emails, Instagrams, and text is going to make the day feel a lot smoother.

“This year has officially been the year of slowing down and learning to give myself what I need in order to thrive throughout the day with sustained energy and inspiration,” adds The Balance Blonde blogger Jordan Younger. “You could say I am a notorious overcommitter and a workaholic-slash-iPhone-aholic—who isn’t?—so I decided to get serious with my morning routine, to start to cultivate more peace and serenity in my daily life. I start each day with a digital detox where I do not look at my phone until I feel ready to be on and communicate with the world!”

Get Some Sun  “Working from home can sometimes mean there’s no need for you to leave the house, but, for me, getting outdoors every day for fresh air, a sense of vitality, and vitamin D is so important,” says Melissa Hemsley of the Hemsley Sisters. “Daylight helps to reset your internal body clock, also known as the circadian rhythm, leading to better sleep and allowing your body to tune into what it needs. I’ve got a staffy called Nelly who I take for runs around my local park, so it’s a non-negotiable for me!”

Studies bear this out: We need vitamin D to stay happy and energized. One such study even linked vitamin D deficiency in young women with depression. You don’t need to start supplementing to get it. Just getting sunlight should do the trick. And if, like Melissa, you work at home, a walk outside can give you the divide between “you time” and working hours.

Add a Yoga Flow  It’s no shock that Strala Yoga creator Tara Stiles starts every morning with a yoga flow, though as a new mom, her routine varies daily depending on what she needs and how she feels. And that’s a good thing! Even if you’re not nursing a newborn, switching up your yoga flow makes the morning a bit more exciting. Strala Yoga has a ton of quick and simple morning flows that Stiles created, and most of them run between seven and 12 minutes. Check out this one and this one if you prefer to have a video to flow with, or just do a few sun salutations and poses that make you feel particularly good.

A regular yoga practice—10 minutes a day is over an hour a week!—can increase strength, balance, and flexibility, calm the mind, and reduce stress, according to the American College of Sports Medicine. It can even help battle things like lower back pain, according to a recent study.

Scrape Your Tongue (or Whatever) “Tongue scraping with a copper or stainless steel tongue scraper removes the toxins that brushing and flossing your teeth doesn’t,” says the other Hemsley sister, Jasmine. “Quite frankly, I’d rather forget to brush my teeth!” If tongue scraping isn’t for you, that’s fine, too, but having a morning beauty/cleansing routine can go a long way toward making you feel more awake and alert if you’re having a tough time crawling out of bed and perking up.

Meditate “I wake up, make a matcha tea or coffee in my kitchen, stretch on my yoga mat, and do a mindfulness meditation practice,” says Younger. “I have also gotten very into crystals, sage, essential oils, and palo santo. The morning is my ‘me time’ to play around with all of my yogi, kundalini grounding practices and also get some reading or journaling in. Then I head off to teach yoga down the street and feel like a new human! Also breathing. It sounds simple, but it’s been a game changer to really focus on my breath.”

Meditation also makes you more creative, according to one study. And another championed morning meditation because that’s when we’re at our most spiritually aware.

It’s not just the yogis who are doing morning meditation, fitness junkies are into it, too. “Everyday is different for me, but no matter where I am, I make sure to spend a few moments alone setting my intention and purpose for the day through meditation,” says Karena Dawn of ToneItUp.com. It really helps me stay centered and focused. After that, I head out for my workout. If I don’t workout in the morning, it usually won’t happen.”

Get in a Quick Workout Dawn also digs a morning workout to get the blood pumping. If you’re an early riser and can sneak in a quick run or strength workout, it’s a great way to kick off the day. And bonus, if you do a low-key workout before you eat breakfast; you’ll reap the benefits of fasted state training and gain extra strength and aerobic capacity in the process. Bonus: You can burn almost 20 percent more fat if you exercise pre-breakfast, according to one study. Plus, let’s be honest, breakfast will taste a whole lot better when you’ve really worked for it.

BY MOLLY HURFORD

[charlottekeating]

Award-winning designer creates beautiful nursing clothing

Award-winning designer and Gloucestershire mum creates beautiful clothing for nursing mothers

The Gloucestershire designer thought it was time women had a fashionable clothing option while breastfeeding. 

One woman grew so fed up with the lack of clothes for breast feeding mothers she decided to do something about it.

Charlotte Keating, 38, from the Forest of Dean, said: “I breastfed both of my children hence the passion to design clothes that help women breastfeed with ease, confidence and style.

"It helps mums overcome the many challenges of nursing and lowered post-partum body confidence and self-esteem with clothing that is both flattering and practical.”

Having created a the line of nursing clothing, Charlotte has remained dedicated to her community and has used nearby mothers mums as models, along with make-up artists, hairdressers, and photographers for her photo shoots.

She has also worked with local cafes to support breastfeeding mums.

Charlotte said: “I had a vision to produce clothing that was fit for function with well-placed nursing access and flattering fit for the post natal body.

“I designed, pattern cut and made my own samples to test on holiday and tested further designs with mums from my local ante and post natal mums groups.

“I asked various mums to test the products for me and I was backed by their input and enthusiasm for the products, I launched the brand, becoming one of the first and original companies specialising in nursing wear as opposed to maternity wear.”

Charlotte went to Southampton University where she achieved her BA Honours in Fashion Design.

Now she is settled in the Forest of Dean where she has lived in seven years.

Charlotte is married with two children who are nine and five-years-old.

She is the designer and director of Charlotte Keating England which has been up and running since 2001.

Primarily the company was a women’s wear and bridal wear company.

Charlotte said: “Mothers come looking for nursing wear once they start breastfeeding and realise the necessity of clothes specifically designed for breastfeeding in.

"Some mums adopt the ‘one up one down’ approach. This is when they can wear a vest they can pull down under a more blouson top they lift up.

“Other mums want to buy clothes that are specifically designed to offer breastfeeding access.

"When breastfeeding is a round the clock, and demanding activity for up to two years of your infant's life, buying clothes to fit in with this new mum lifestyle is an important step.”

Charlotte once supplied independent nursery boutiques with the nursing clothing range she sell’s the garments online through my own website as it helps keep the clothing more affordable and accessible for new mums.

Charlotte said: “Our ethos is to help mums breastfeed with confidence and nurse in style and promote the range by using real breastfeeding mums.

"These are usually friends of mine or local mums I've approached in the park.

“Nursing mums want to breastfeed discreetly and easily without getting half undressed to do so. Mums are active and not constrained to the home these days and need clothing to suit their modern lifestyle.

“Breastfeeding clothes makes dressing for the day a no brainer and with our boutique range, mums can feel comfortable and look great whilst breastfeeding their baby with confidence whenever the need arises.

"Our wardrobe staples can be easily paired with jeans and trainers or dressed up for working mums or special occasions.”

Charlotte has also teamed up with celebrity-endorsed CoppaFeel. 

This charity looks to raise awareness of breast checking in young women. With fans including Giovanna Fletcher and Fearne Cotton, to name but a few.

Supporting this charity was one that Charlotte felt strongly about, with £2 of every sale of the Emelia Nursing Tee in the Charlotte Keating range is going to being donated to this worthy cause.

To take a look at the range of clothing that is designed in Charlotte's studio in Lydney visit: http://ift.tt/17CJRAX

Written by Kim Horton for Gloucestershire Live 16:29, 10 SEP 2017 http://ift.tt/2wQTc0h

Photos courtesy of Gloucestershire Live

via Charlotte Keating Breastfeeding Clothing & Maternitywear - Blog http://ift.tt/2y4O9Kr

[dulwichdiverter]

Dulwich at war

What was life in Dulwich like during the First and Second World Wars? Our writer investigates

By Baruch Solomon

These days, a night out with my friends usually consists of a few beers and a curry, but in 1939 it might have meant playing with live grenades in Belair Park. The following year, we could have been shooting at enemy aircraft from Dulwich and Sydenham golf course.

More likely, we’d have been bored stiff guarding the ammunition dump in Dulwich Wood in the pouring rain; or patrolling the streets to make sure that no chinks of light were showing through anyone’s curtains.

Later, when the rocket bombs fell, we’d have dived for cover with the customary stiff upper lip, but we might have wondered why so many of them seemed to land on Dulwich.

In fact, it’s likely that the first explosive device to hit Dulwich fell in 1916, landing next to Peckham Rye Common and damaging a local tramline. The exploding shell turned out to be friendly fire from an anti-aircraft gun on One Tree Hill. It had been aimed at a Zeppelin airship that was no doubt on its way to bomb inner London.

Speaking of early bombing raids, one of the most celebrated World War One pilots was Sydney Vincent Sippe, a former pupil of Dulwich College. On November 21, 1914, he and two other pilots flew more than 120 miles across mountainous terrain into enemy territory to bomb hangars containing Zeppelins. This was just eleven years after the Wright brothers had made their maiden flight and such feats were almost unheard of.

Another former pupil, Grahame Donald, had a miraculous escape a few years later. He fell out of his Sopwith Camel at 6,000 feet after his safety belt snapped. He wasn’t wearing a parachute, but while falling he collided with the somersaulting plane, managed to grab a wing and climbed back into the cockpit.  

But Dulwich was also a focal point for those who showed a different kind of courage; people like Sarah Cahill and Arthur Creech Jones who formed the East Dulwich branch of the No-Conscription Fellowship and campaigned tirelessly on behalf of those who refused to fight on moral grounds.

Conscientious objectors faced ridicule, contempt and open hostility for refusing to participate in the war. Their fate was determined by local tribunals. In Camberwell, a Mr Sayer, dismayed by the unsympathetic attitude of some of his colleagues, was reported to have declared: “Members were biased and did not exhibit the judicial attitude required of them… Some members were continually muttering such remarks as ‘They ought to be shot, or ought to be hanged.’”

World War Two had a much greater impact on civilian life. As was the case elsewhere, local people demonstrated an enormous commitment to the war effort, volunteering as firefighters, air raid wardens, nurses, local defence volunteers and auxiliary policemen.

These services could be severely under-resourced, especially at the start of the war. For the first nine months, Mr R Dupraz ran air raid wardens’ post 60 from his living room at 47 Pickwick Road in Dulwich Village.

As late as July 1940, the mayor of Camberwell put out an appeal for guns and binoculars for what was to become the local Home Guard. A week later he was reported to have lamented: “All I have received is one pair of binoculars.” In moments of such pathos, it is hard not to be reminded of Captain Mainwaring from Dad’s Army.

But while Dulwich braced itself for war and possible invasion, William Joyce (later nicknamed Lord Haw-Haw) and his brother Quentin had a very different agenda. During the late 1930s they were known for organising Nazi rallies outside Dulwich Library, but the authorities were more concerned about their association with suspected German agent Christian Harri Bauer.

Quentin worked in the Directorate of Signals for the Air Ministry, which may have given him access to sensitive information. MI5 was alerted when his landlady contacted the police about a letter in his waste paper basket containing a list of British cruisers and aircraft. Conversations about obtaining rare stamps followed, which MI5 took to mean sensitive maps that could be used by enemy forces.

When war was declared, William Joyce defected to Germany and his infamous if absurd radio broadcasts earned him the moniker Lord Haw-Haw. Quentin was arrested in Bristol where presumably, he had been trying leave England by boat.

He was deemed a security risk and interned on the Isle of Man until 1943. While there, his repeated protestations of innocence were compromised by his association with characters like Dr Branimir Jelić, a Croatian nationalist with strong Nazi sympathies who, upon his release, moved into the showy but rather eccentric Toksowa Hotel on Dulwich Common.

The first bombs fell on Dulwich in August 1940 and air raid sirens soon became an almost nightly occurrence. Audrey Waters was with her sister in the Odeon at Goose Green when a siren sounded. Worried about their mother, they ran home along East Dulwich Road.

She recalled: “As we ran, we heard the noise of an airplane and looked back and there was this plane diving straight at us. We threw ourselves over a coping into a garden to get out of the way.

“We heard the sound of a machine gun, and then the airplane swooped back up again and flew off… The street was deserted apart from us because they were all in the air raid shelter so the pilot was obviously shooting at us, two young girls running home.”

Audrey went on to work in the radium room of a factory on Streatham Hill, painting radium on compass and gun dials. Fascinated by the paint’s luminosity, she stopped wearing her mask at work. “At night, in the blackout, I used to be lit up like a Christmas tree, with all the fluorescence over my hairline, neck, throat and hands,” she said.

Tragically but unsurprisingly, Audrey became seriously ill some years later and had to have a tumour in her throat removed.

There were numerous public shelters in and around Dulwich, but many residents erected their own. The Ellen family from Turney Road found that their Anderson shelter became increasingly damp as the winter of 1940 approached: “Dr Brown said we could stay in the house and risk being hit by a bomb, or use the shelter and be sure of dying of pneumonia.”

As well as bombs, people faced the daily struggle of putting food on the table in the face of rationing and food shortages. Some people formed pig clubs, where they all contributed waste food scraps to feed the pig. When it was slaughtered the meat would be shared out.

“We always had something when they killed a pig,” recalled Nora Young, “and once we had a leg. We invited relations and neighbours to our pork party, 10 of us in two sittings; what a treat it was.”

But amid all the wartime austerity, one Dulwich teenager struck it rich and moved into the house of her dreams on Court Lane. The year was 1940 and the young lady’s name was Anne Shelton.

She was a “forces sweetheart” who melted the hearts of servicemen at military bases up and down the country. She had her own radio show, Introducing Anne, which ran for four years and was mainly broadcast to troops in North Africa. She’s perhaps best remembered for her signature tune, Lili Marlene.

In the summer of 1944, the Germans started firing rocket bombs at Britain. Dulwich was especially badly hit and this was no accident. The Germans aimed their rockets where they thought they would do the most damage.

However, British intelligence officers were able to use their knowledge of the Enigma code to feed misinformation to the Germans about where their rockets had landed, leading them to aim their rockets south-east of central London in the mistaken belief they were hitting their targets.

The worst single incidence of loss of life occurred on November 1, 1944 when a V2 rocket landed on the corner of Friern Road and Etherow Street, killing 24 people.

Understandably the rocket bombs increased British anger at the Germans, who they regarded as “simply not playing the game”. Clergymen were by no means immune from the desire for retribution.  

The outraged pastor of Lordship Lane Baptist Church declared that “Hitler and his hounds from hell will lose their lives. They deserve to for they have never given God or man a chance.”

Meanwhile the Reverend James Capron of All Saints Church in West Dulwich seemed to be more upset about his stained glass windows than any humanitarian implications: “It all makes a lot of work for everybody with discomfort and inconvenience, which no doubt the Germans intended, but it has not and will not win them the war. But it has stopped a lot of talk about the Germans being fundamentally nice gentlemen, unfortunately led by gangsters.”

However, an excerpt from St Mary’s Church magazine in Peckham had a more dovish tone: “A competition in barbarism would hardly save the population from suffering, shorten the war or add to the hope of a better world in the days to come.”

There are numerous reminders in and around Dulwich of those people, military and civilian, who lost their lives during the two world wars. Outside what is now the Deeper Life Bible Church on Lordship Lane, there’s a stone plinth erected by the Dulwich Volunteer Battalion – an early version of the Home Guard – in honour of those who died in World War One.

At what is now Dulwich Community Hospital, several thousand World War One soldiers were cared for after being injured at the front. In the grounds, there’s a monument to 119 soldiers who didn’t survive. In 2013, the Dulwich Society erected 12 memorial plaques at sites where German bombs caused significant loss of life.

But there are other reminders too, and they aren’t all about people who were killed. There’s a blue plaque on Anne Shelton’s former residence at 142 Court Lane. The site of the exotic if strange-sounding Toksowa Hotel has lost none of its exclusivity. It became Hambledon Place, a very upmarket gated community that was once home to Margaret and Denis Thatcher.

But one of the least aesthetic reminders of Dulwich’s wartime legacy has to be the concrete gun emplacement at the top of One Tree Hill. It certainly isn’t made any prettier by the empty bottles and beer cans that have sometimes graced its environs. Perhaps we should be grateful however, that we live in an age when all-night parties have replaced all-night air raids, and when uncollected litter is a greater nuisance than unexploded bombs.